


I'll Keep You Safe

by puddnheadbou



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Berlermo Secret Santa, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Night Terrors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28265388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddnheadbou/pseuds/puddnheadbou
Summary: Andrés is faced with his inner demons, but he doesn’t have to fight them alone.
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 6
Kudos: 24





	I'll Keep You Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stilljustbitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stilljustbitten/gifts).



> I hope I did justice to your prompt!  
> It's my very first Berlermo work - I thought this event would be a good opportunity for me to have a go at creative writing. It's been almost 3 years since I last wrote anything fandom-related. I’m definitely rusty, but I hope you'll enjoy it!  
> (English isn’t my first language and I mostly use it at the professional level, so there may be some grammatical and syntactic mistakes - sorry about that!)

_“Today is the day I die.” The obviousness of these words did not even seem to disturb him_ _– h_ _e knew it was coming. He felt it, from his pounding heart to his trembling hands. The fear he was feeling was real. He was terrified. This apprehension was not new nor unknown, but this time, it was peculiar. Never in his life could he remember being confronted to an instinct so tragic, inevitable, permanent. Neither this feeble but growing spark of doubt deep inside of him, nor his little brother begging him to get out of there seemed to awaken any common sense in him. How could he be reasonable? It was the only way. Andrés kept his plans to himself for weeks. Of course, as the older brother, Andrés wanted to protect Sergio, and he made sure his brother would never find out what his real intentions were. Andrés knew his brother’s freedom would come at a cost that he was willing to pay. He used to think about it_ _–_ _how all of this would end. But now that he was finally confronted to his impending end, Andrés was scared. Until that very moment, he thought he had accepted his fate. He was wrong. Was this surrounding chaos a foretaste of hell? It had to be, but he wasn’t so sure anymore. The sheer dread he perceived deep down made him doubt as he was now running out of time. “Today is the day I…”_

Awakened by the yells, Martín tried to hold Andrés back so he wouldn’t hurt himself, which had already happened several times. But this time, Andrés struggled so vigorously that he ended up punching Martín in the face unintentionally. Martín cursed and let go of Andrés who suddenly got up, his head in his hands, disoriented. It was not Andrés’ first night terror, but the more they occurred, the more Andrés seemed vulnerable, and he hated it. Standing by the window, Andrés hardly held back his tears. He was breathing rapidly, almost gasping for air. A few meters away, Martín kept his eyes on him, hoping he would not do something stupid – the last time Andrés tried to vent his nervousness, Martín spent almost two hours removing meticulously glass shards from his palm. Martín had been extremely composed while cleaning and bandaging the wounded hand, the same calm he was displaying now. 

This episode was by far one of the most overwhelming he had witnessed – without doubt, he would never get used to it. Yet, he had no intention of leaving. He stood up and got closer to him in silence. Martín leant against the wall next to the window, crossed his arms, and looked outside for a few seconds before his eyes lingered on Andrés. The man’s nervosity worried him but he tried to remain as tranquil as possible.

_\- What was it, this time?_ Martín asked calmly.

Andrés didn’t answer, too busy trying to pull himself together. He hated to show signs of weakness, especially in front of Martín. He always used to exude confidence. He would either be hated, or be the sun everyone around him was so strangely attracted to. But the star had now lost its warmth and radiance, its uniqueness. Somehow, Andrés felt like he was no longer the man he used to be, the one Martín fell in love with – still, the Argentinian man was here, unwilling to leave. Andrés finally put his hands down and kept looking vacantly into the void, clenching his fists to prevent his hands from trembling. Martín could only see half of his weary face: it wore the signs of more strain and hardship than Martín will probably ever know. Each passing second seemed to be a burden for Andrés, who was too exhausted and shaken to hold it back, and Martín could sense it. The fear in his eyes was so palpable that his (not so unusual now) irritation was understandable. Although he couldn’t share Andrés’ physical pain, his torment was familiar. 

Martín slowly and cautiously took Andrés’ hands in his. Andrés looked down, then into Martín’s blue eyes. The way they stood out in the moonlight gave Martín an otherworldly presence, which almost made Andrés wonder whether he was still sleeping or not. His look eventually paused on Martín’s cheekbone, where a bruise was starting to form. Hesitant, Andrés carefully caressed the skin with the tips of his fingers – it was a bit painful, but Martín couldn’t care less. As Andrés was about to answer Martín’s question, words faded right away. A reassuring smile appeared on Martín’s lips. He actually did not expect or even need an answer, as he already knew what Andrés’ nightmare was about. What happened in the Mint and the fact that he never talked about it was beyond his own comprehension. Andrés survived but the trauma was so profound that a part of him wished he was still there, but he was unable to express it. No one would understand, not even Martín.

Martín only had to meet Andrés’ eyes to discern the cracks in his soul, as if he were now made of the thinnest glass – as if what happened had permanently weakened him. Each crack was a hazard Martín secretly swore to preserve until time would finally allow Andrés to heal – not to disguise these cracks, but to mend them with a metaphorical gold, an idea that meant something to Martín since they once intended to melt gold together. Andrés would probably never recover his past radiance, but the illuminated cracks would someday grant him a new, humble glow. Only time would tell, but Martín was remarkably patient.

Embarrassed, Andrés looked away again. He knew it was not his fault, but he couldn’t help wanting to erase these unsettling nights and start over. Martín shouldn’t have to handle this situation, even though he did it with great humility and empathy. He brought Martín’s hands to his lips and left a faint kiss on each of them, as if he was seeking forgiveness. How could Martín be so patient and understanding after everything he went through because of him? How could anyone be so resilient? It has only been a few months since the day they met again. When anyone would have expected Martín to shut the door in Andrés’ face, he could not just ignore the man he considered his soulmate. Although Martín never explicitly forgave him, Andrés tried several times to explain himself, and despite his clumsiness, Martín could not deny his honesty. So he gave Andrés a chance, not necessarily to make amends or to be a better person, but a chance to confess those feelings he could no longer refute – in his own way and his own time. Neither of them could predict where their “us” would lead them. Although words had been useless for them to mutually agree to move on and start knowing each other anew, their relationship was still frail.

Martín would observe Andrés, note his reactions in order to adapt accordingly. After night terror episodes, Martín would give him enough space – he quickly realized how difficult it would be to reassure him, so whenever Andrés needed to be alone, Martín would respect his choice. He would stick around, but never pushed or forced him to speak or do anything. He would not even touch him until Andrés gave him a silent permission – whether it was a slight head movement or a look that Martín could now easily recognize and distinguish from other looks.

Martín could see Andrés trying to find the right words, as if he was scared to be left behind in turn. But Martín was not like Andrés. It was still difficult for him to express how he felt the day Andrés came back, but anger had soon been taken over by concern from the moment his eyes met Andrés’ – they had lost their such peculiar light, even though the man was trying to put on a front. Martín knew this game all too well since he himself excelled at it. No one had been there for him when he was left alone, but he could not resolve himself to leave Andrés behind just when he needed help most – even though he was still too proud and stubborn to admit it. It required an incredible abnegation from Martín who could not bear the thought of Andrés following the same path that made him fall into depression and alcohol. Yet, Andrés could not quite understand how Martín could be so selfless. After all, he was the one who tore his heart apart and walked away without a second thought. He felt unworthy of such a transparent and genuine love. It took him a few seconds to pluck up the courage and finally speak up:

_\- I abandoned you_ , Andrés whispered. _I abandoned you, but you’re still here._ Martín remained silent. He was simply waiting for the moment Andrés would completely give in. _You stayed._ His voice was shaking. Martín carefully squeezed Andrés’ hands to reassure him.

_\- This isn’t about me._ Martín kissed Andrés’ forehead tenderly. _Some can learn from their mistakes and start again._

The helpless man wanted to respond, but he no longer had the energy to do so. Slowly, he buried his face in Martín's neck. He knew this was another sign of weakness, but Andrés was tired of pretending. Martín embraced him softly, caressing the back of his head to comfort him. Andrés sighed and put his arms around Martín’s waist, feeling safe in the tender embrace – he knew it would still take time for him to feel worthy of Martín’s care. But right now, all he could do was cling to the man he loved. In the turmoil of his own wounded soul, the sincerity of this moment felt like a lull. The storm would obviously turn up again, and nightmares would never stop lurking, but he knew he wouldn’t fight them alone.

Andrés faced Martín again. Silence and facial expressions had gradually become a natural way for them to communicate. The illusion of suspended time when Martín kissed him softly comforted him. The way Martín loved him so effortlessly encouraged his damaged heart to overcome his fears and distress.

Taking Andrés’ hand, Martín led him back to bed before joining him. Andrés quickly clung to Martín, who put his arms around him. He could feel Andrés’ heartbeat against his chest, slowing down progressively as Andrés started to calm down. Martín already knew he would not go back to sleep. He would stay awake for the rest of the night, watching over the man he loved more than anything and vowed to look after.

_\- Please, stay_ , Andrés begged in a whisper.

_\- I’m not going anywhere._ Martín held him closer. _I’ll keep you safe_ , he promised.

And he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my work, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> My main inspiration was the song ‘I’ll Keep You Safe’ by Sleeping at Last.  
> As for the mention of cracks and gold, it is a nod to the kintsugi Japanese tradition.
> 
> Happy holidays! x


End file.
